Shades of Grey
by Kalima Idina
Summary: Life is rarely as distinct as black and white. Where light and darkness mix, the only apparent hues become shades of grey. Post HPHBP. Rated T just in case.
1. Prologue: No One

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Harry Potter. However, the plot is entirely mine.

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Prologue: No One

Rain poured down from the raging sky, drenching the wizard as he limped painfully across the wet pavement of a deserted muggle street. A bolt of lightning flashed in the night, illuminating a tall boy of seventeen years of age with dark blonde hair plastered to his forehead and a bloodied arm pressing itself into a large wound in the boy's stomach—an attempt to impede the blood flowing freely from it.

_Just a little bit longer,_ the wizard told himself, gasping as his wound caused him to double over in pain.

The wand in his pocket lay unused—he was much too weak to perform any complicated spells. He had no one left. His family was gone—either into hiding or into Azkaban prison. His friends had all betrayed him; their cowardice outweighed their loyalty. All he had left were his enemies, and he wasn't even sure of that fact.

"Watch him turn me out into the cold," Draco Malfoy muttered. He gave a small laugh that held no joy. "That'll be better than what Crabbe and Goyle did."

Limping over to a new street, the wizard glanced at the sign upon the wooden post. His sight blurred from the constant rain, he pulled out his wand to perform a simple spell.

"Lumos," Malfoy murmured, and the tip of his wand glowed with a strange light, illuminating the sign.

_Privet Drive_

He had finally made it. _You're not there yet,_ he told himself grimly. What was the number Professor Snape had spoken of? _Severus,_ Malfoy mentally corrected himself. _I'm seventeen; he told me to call him Severus. _The wizard gave another small laugh choked with pain. _Not that he's really a professor anymore._ Malfoy paused in his thoughts. _Why am I letting my mind wander so aimlessly? Oh, that's right,_ his thoughts continued with another gasp of breath, _to distract myself from the pain. _

_Number 4, Privet Drive. Isn't that was Severus said?_

Malfoy paused at the end of a driveway, staring at the number on the muggles' door. He limped to the entrance, holding onto the frame to keep from falling over.

_How do mudbloods announce their presence?_ Malfoy asked himself, knowing a knock would not be heard throughout the house and he wasn't nearly strong enough to Apparate. The wizard found himself beginning to panic.

He leaned down, resting his weight entirely on the doorframe. As he moved, his body pressed against a small, circular, glowing object. Suddenly a strange ringing sounded throughout the house. Malfoy jumped back, clutching his wound. He was certain everyone in the house would be awake now. They would soon come down to accept him into their household. Sure enough, it wasn't long before he heard voices through he wooden door.

"What would someone want at _this_ bloody hour?"

"I don't know, Vernon," came a quieter voice, "but let's see what they want so they don't wake up the entire neighborhood."

The door opened, and Malfoy came face to face with a plump man with a purple head and almost no neck, and a tall, boney woman with a pale face. It was a wonder to Malfoy how they had met—they seemed to contrast each other so highly.

His vision beginning to waver because of his loss of blood, Malfoy took a step towards the two muggles. Both retreated, fear evident in their eyes as they gazed upon the wand still held limply in his hand.

"Harry Potter," he managed to gasp, and then he collapsed.

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AN: I hope you enjoyed the first installment to my new fanfic! Please R&R and tell me what you enjoyed and what you didn't. Those who liked it should check out my first fanfic - it's called Harry Potter and the Fullmetal Alchemist. I hope to get a lot of feedback!


	2. Safely Amongst Enemies

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or her characters.

AN: I got the first chapter uploaded (the first was a prologue)! I hope you enjoy it!

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Chapter One: Safely Amongst Enemies

The boy stood staring at the stormy sky, searching for any sing of movement in the dark blackness. Hedwig should have been back by now. He had sent a letter to Lupin, hoping that the old friend could help him find the four remaining Horcruxes.

Sighing, the underage wizard left his post and slipped into bed. Perhaps the owl would come in the morning. At that moment, he heard a tap at his window, accompanied by small, muffled hoots.

"Hedwig!" was the happy exclaim.

He rushed to the window and hurried to open it. Hooting, the snowy white owl fluttered in, extending her leg as she landed upon her master's head.

"Oi! Hedwig, gerroff my head!"

Snapping her beak, she obeyed, alighting gracefully upon his bed. Irritated, he pulled the letter from her leg. Hedwig flew over to her cage and promptly ignored him. She did not seem pleased when her master failed to sense her mood and began to read Lupin's reply.

_Harry,_

_I think I may be able to help you, but not just yet. At the moment, I am staying at the Burrow. If something does not occur, I will remain there until you arrive after your seventeenth birthday. Stay out of trouble!_

_~Lupin_

Harry Potter read the letter through twice, and then threw it across the room angrily. He had no desire to wait! He wanted those Horcruxes out of the way so he could destroy Voldemort once and for all. The boy sighed deeply. He knew that was not all that troubled him. The burning sense of anger and betrayal when Snape pointed his wand at Dumbledore and uttered the dreaded words "_Avada Kedavra_" was still fresh in his mind. He had sworn he would make Snape pay, and where Voldemort was, Snape would most likely be as well.

Harry still sat thinking about his former potions teacher when the doorbell rang loudly throughout the house. The wizard jumped, startled. With a confused expression upon his face, he moved to answer the door before the Dursleys awoke, but then stopped short at the sound of a door slamming.

_Too late,_ he told himself.

He heard his uncle stomp down the stairs and say irritably, "What would someone want at _this_ bloody hour?"

His aunt Petunia gave a muffled reply, but Harry wasn't listening. He glanced at the alarm clock beside his bed, which now read three o'clock. No one would be calling at this hour unless—

"Harry!" Uncle Vernon roared, causing the young wizard to jump yet again.

The wizard rushed from his room and then paused at the top of the stairs, glancing down at his aunt and uncle standing in front of an open door. "What is it?" Harry questioned breathlessly.

"Come down here right this instant!"

Uncle Vernon's head grew a deeper shade of red by the minute. Harry was afraid it might explode. The only time he had seen his uncle this angry was when a dementor had attacked Dudley and Harry had told Vernon that Lord Voldemort was after him. His uncle had wanted to throw him out of the house.

Harry descended the stairs, dreading every second as he drew ever near to that purple face.

"It's one of _your_ type," Uncle Vernon sneered, pointing a finger that was more like a sausage at him.

"He's bleeding on the carpet," Aunt Petunia interjected in a frightened voice.

"What?" Harry rushed down the rest of the stairs. His aunt and uncle moved aside, giving him a clear view of the boy lying unconscious upon the floor. "Malfoy?"

The boy on the floor blinked, slowly regaining consciousness. "Potter," he gasped, his eyes clouded with pain.

"What—what're you doing here?" Harry demanded as the anger and frustration rose into his chest once more. It was Malfoy's fault Dumbledore was dead! If Malfoy hadn't disarmed Dumbledore, Snape wouldn't have had a chance to kill him.

Harry was brought out of his thoughts when the wizard upon the floor slowly rose, clenching his teeth to keep from crying out as pain shot through his body.

"I just need—" Malfoy began, but he cut off short as he felt another jolt of pain and started to fall once again. Before he reached the ground, however, Harry caught him, holding the wizard up.

"You're hurt," Harry observed, glancing down at the wound in Malfoy's abdomen.

"Really, Potter?" Malfoy replied sarcastically, and then gave another gasp of pain, clutching his wound in agony.

"C'mon," Harry said rather reluctantly, "I'll take you up to my r—"

"He's not staying here!" Uncle Vernon yelled, his face growing even redder.

"You think I _want_ him to stay here?" Harry asked, turning to his uncle. "He spent the six years we had together at school making my life miserable, and now he's responsible for the headmaster's death!"

"Dumbledore's dead?" Aunt Petunia asked quietly, her face pale in the moonlight streaming in from the still open door.

"Yes," Harry answered, shifting a little under Malfoy's weight.

"Then there's no one left to stop Voldemort?"

"Volde-who?" Uncle Vernon questioned, turning to his wife. "That isn't that insane killer you were talking about two summers ago, is it?"

"It is," Harry replied, "and the only way to stop his is by destroying the objects that hold part of his fractured soul."

"His fractured—what?"

"Never mind," Harry replied, turning to help Malfoy up the stairs.

"I told you! He's—not—staying!" Uncle Vernon roared.

Harry ignored him, continuing to support the injured wizard as they made their way to his bedroom. They reached Harry's room and he pulled Malfoy in, shutting the door behind them.

"Here, lay down," he said, letting Malfoy slip off his shoulders and onto his bed.

Harry found an old sheet that had fallen of his bed during an extremely unpleasant nightmare and began tearing it up.

"What're you doing, Potter?" Malfoy demanded through gritted teeth.

"Patching you up."

"You're not going to use m—"

"I'm not very skilled with healing," Harry replied tersely. "Besides, I'm underage; I don't want the Ministry of Magic knocking on my door just yet. Do you have something to change into?" he asked, holding a strip of cloth in his hands.

"I was a little preoccupied to think of bringing a change of clothes," Malfoy replied jeeringly, and then clutched his abdomen with a pained look on his face.

"Here, put these on under your robes." Harry handed Malfoy a pair of Dudley's old pants. "Oh, and don't even think about making a snipe about how big they are. They were my cousin Dudley's before he grew out of them."

Harry turned away to tear more strips of his old sheet to give Malfoy the privacy to pull up his robes.

"Okay, now take off your robes," Harry said, turning back to the wounded wizard.

Once his robes were off and he lay on the bed with his bare torso covered in blood, Harry instructed him to sit up and began to wind the strips of cloth across Malfoy's lower stomach.

"Ouch—careful, Potter!"

"It has to be tight, you know."

"Well, that doesn't mean you have to—" Malfoy's sentence was cut off as he gave a scream of agony.

"Almost—done," Harry gritted, struggling to wrap the bandage around Malfoy's stomach one more time. "There." He tied the ends of the last strip together and stood back. "Here," the wizard added, grabbing a clean shirt from his floor and handing it to Malfoy.

Harry then opened his trunk and started searching through its contents.

"What are you doing?" Malfoy asked as he pulled the shirt over his head.

"Is that all you can say?" Harry replied irritably as he finally found a bottle of black ink, a quill, and some parchment. "I'm writing a letter."

"No, you're not!" Malfoy snarled, and Harry looked up to see the Slytherin's wand pointed in his direction.

"You're not strong enough to do any _dangerous_ magic."

"Oh, really? Try me!"

"All _I _have to do," Harry began calmly, taking out his own wand, "is perform a simple spell, and the Ministry of Magic will be all over you. You'll be with your father in no time."

"Don't talk about my father that way!" Malfoy spat. "It's _your_ fault he's in Azkaban!"

"He deserved it," Harry replied grimly. Malfoy could not think of an appropriate retort. "I'm writing to Lupin because I have no idea what to do."

Malfoy remained silent as Harry opened his inkbottle and began scratching a letter to his older friend.

_Lupin,_

_Can't wait until my birthday—the Dursleys are getting on my nerves more than usual, especially Dudley. For some reason, he won't leave me alone—and I've been in my room all summer! Anyway, tell Ron and Hermione that a bloody ferret turned up at my door. I don't now if I should keep it or not. You know, it has a history of violence. Reply soon!_

_Harry_

"Let me see it," Malfoy demanded warily.

"All right," Harry replied with a smirk.

Harry watched as his enemy read the letter. The blonde boy's face grew steadily redder as he read on. Malfoy finished reading it and threw the paper back to Harry, an annoyed expression upon his face.

"Well?"

"Very clever, Potter," Malfoy snapped.

"I rather thought so myself," Harry replied smugly.

He called Hedwig from the top of his desk and she came with a hoot, landing upon his arm and nipping at his ear affectionately with her beak.

"You know, I always liked that owl," Malfoy admitted from his position on Harry's bed.

Hedwig flew out of the open window and Harry felt a huge sense of loneliness.

"What now, Potter?" Malfoy demanded.

"Now," Harry began coldly, "you're going to tell me what you're doing here."

"Oh, let it rest, Potter. I'm not going to spill my guts to you without some promise."

"Yes, you are."

Seeing he was in no position to argue, Malfoy replied, "Very well, then. I'll start directly after Severus killed Dumbledore."

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AN: Anyway, I didn't get any reviews for the prologue, so I have no idea if anyone likes this. Can I get some feedback from my readers? If not, I'll just cancle the story.


	3. Fugitive of Light and Dark

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

AN: Thanks for the review, boondockschic! Here's the next chapter!

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Chapter Two: Fugitive of Light and Dark

"Out of here, quickly!" Snape commanded, grabbing Malfoy by the scruff of the neck and forcing him through the door that led down from the tower ahead of the other Death Eaters.

Snape pulled him down the darkened staircase as his head reeled with what had just occurred. They hurried down the last steps and drew their wands as they entered a dimly lit corridor. Malfoy saw that an amount of dust floated in the air and a large portion of the ceiling had caved in.

"Come," Snape snapped, and they pushed their way through the battle that raged between the Death Eaters and the Order of the Phoenix.

Miraculously, they were harmed by neither side as the Order looked upon Snape as a friend just as the Death Eaters did. There was a flash of green light, and Malfoy froze in his tracks. Once again he saw Dumbledore fall down the tower, his arms spread out before him, his face illuminated in an eerie green glow.

"It's over, time to go," Snape shouted, once again pulling Malfoy through all the confusion of hexes and counter-curses.

The two turned the corner at the end of the corridor and disappeared from the fighting wizards' sights. The both of them sped through the castle, dodging both bewildered students and Death Eaters alike. They ran through the entrance doors and made their way swiftly to the gates. Malfoy was panting by the time they reached Hagrid's hut.

A flash of red light soared past Snape's head and he turned. "Run, Draco!" Snape yelled. "Run to the gates! You can Apparate from there."

Malfoy turned as well to see Potter advance upon the Potions Master, and then turned away. His breath coming in jagged gasps, Malfoy sprinted to the gates before he drew his wand from underneath his robes and then pointed it at himself. He Disapparated with a loud _crack_.

There was a beautiful lawn, surrounded by flowers that danced in the light breeze. The lawn was a vibrant green, cut to the minute precision and without any flaws or blemishes. It would be an almost calm, inviting scene if it were not for the wrought-iron gates shutting the lawn away from the outside world.

With a resounding _crack_, Malfoy Apparated in front of the gate. "Purebloods," he muttered wearily, and the gates swung open.

He walked unto his lawn, the gates closing behind him. Though he was surrounded by beauty, the only thing on his mind the searing pains in his left arm that meant his lord was furious.

"What am I going to do?" he asked himself bitterly. His name would be all over the newspaper thanks to Potter, and if he were caught he would most likely share a cell with his father in Azkaban.

Sitting upon a bench near the entrance to the Malfoy Manor, he began to plot how he would live the life of a fugitive, hiding from both the Dark Lord and the Ministry of Magic alike. His thoughts continued into his dreams as he fell into a troubled sleep.

"Draco," a voice murmured, and the wizard woke with a jolt, his hand flying for his wand. "Calm yourself," Snape said, and Malfoy's hand dropped. "Your mother's gone into hiding."

"What? She didn't even tell me before—"

"There was no time, Draco. The Dark Lord is very angry. You have to leave before he sends someone to dispose of you."

"Leave?" Malfoy asked, trying to rid his voice of an emotion as weak as fear. "Where will I go?"

"To number four, Privet Drive," Snape replied quietly.

"Privet Drive?"

Snape continued as if he hadn't heard him. "It is from there you will contact the Order of the Phoenix."

"The Order of—"

"Stop repeating everything I say like some addled first year," Snape snapped.

"Sorry, sir," Malfoy replied automatically.

"And stop calling me 'sir.' You're a man; call me Severus." Snape looked down at Malfoy for a moment, and then added, "Here is everything you need to know to ensure that the Order will take you in."

* * *

Night had fallen once again, and Snape had long ago left Malfoy's manor. He was confused. Very confused. Was he to give up everything he was taught, everything he believed in, just so that he might survive? Snape was more like a father to him than his own father had been, taking him under his wing and ensuring his safety. Didn't he have an obligation, at least to pay him back for all those years of fatherly favoritism?

"But why Potter?" Malfoy asked out loud, just as he had asked Snape when the wizard had told him who lived on Privet Drive.

Before he could think through why Snape could possibly consider Potter, Malfoy heard a loud _crack_, followed shortly by another one.

"Oh, no," the wizard said, rising to glance over at the gates just in time to see them blown apart.

Out of the smoke and debris emerged two figures clad in long, black, billowing cloaks, their faces covered in masks and their wands outstretched to curse him.

_Protego_, Malfoy thought, and a shield formed around him just before two flashes, one red, one green, flew towards him and bounced off. The force of the curses, however, knocked him off his feet. He fell heavily to the ground, watching helplessly as the two figures made their way towards him. "Crabbe—Goyle," Malfoy said, rising. His mind whirled as he struggled to think of a way out of this situation. "You don't have to do this, you know. Just tell the Dark Lord I wasn't here, you—"

"The Dark Lord sees through all lies," Crabbe intoned thickly. "This is our first task."

"He's told us to kill you, but we might as well have some fun with it," Goyle added.

They raised their wands in unison and bellowed, "_CRUCIO!_"

Malfoy fell to the ground, crying out as searing pain ran down the length of his body. He writhed on the tiles, his body convulsing horribly. The pain lasted only as long as to make him want to die then and there, and then cut off abruptly.

"We don't want it to be over _that_ soon."

They waited for a split second before raising their wands once again. This gave Malfoy all the time he needed as he thought, _Impedimenta,_ and the two Death Eaters froze with their wands in mid-swing.

Knowing he had precious seconds to spare, Malfoy sprinted past his old friends and to the gate beyond. As he drew nearer to the iron gate, he heard movement from behind and turned—and was hit full in the stomach with a well-aimed curse.

"_Petrificus Totalus!_" Malfoy gasped, pain rushing through his body, and the two Death Eaters froze once again.

He turned on his foot and Disapparated. Malfoy felt compressed, as if he were being forced through a small object. His stomach burned in pain as his body folded in upon itself, and then the pressure suddenly lifted.

There he stood, in the middle of a deserted mudblood street. Something must have gone wrong when he Apparated. He had probably focused too entirely upon the pain rather than being determined to reach Privet Drive. He was surprised he hadn't Splinched.

_Well, I can't be too far, _Malfoy thought sensibly. _I'll just have to walk. _

Just then, a bolt of lighting flashed in the distance as the sun began to sink beneath the horizon, and a shadow passed over Malfoy's face.

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AN: Another lengthy one! Please R&R!


	4. Trust

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

AN: Thanks to all my reviewers: boondockschic, A-NicXIII, and of course SilhouetteTheShinisinNinpire! I love you all! Anyway, I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while...this is actually the last chapter I have planned out, so I really need some inspiration...

And now, on with the story!

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Chapter Three: Trust

"So you're here because Snape sent you?" Harry asked, spitting out the name with an icy fury.

"He gave me information for the Order."

"Do you seriously expect me to believe he's still working for the Order? After _what_ he did?"

"I have no idea if he's still working for the Order," Malfoy replied. "However," he continued, "Severus created an Unbreakable Vow with my mother. He'd have to do all in his power to keep me alive or he'd—"

"Die. Yeah, I know," Harry finished.

"Then you should realize it doesn't matter if Severus works for the Order or not. This information is legitimate—otherwise he wouldn't have risked it."

"It's not my call to make," Harry allowed, glancing over at the alarm clock. "It's almost four. We should get some rest—Lupin's reply will come in the morning."

Harry opened his closet, rummaging through Dudley's broken toys and smashed electronics to find a pillow and a blanket.

"You can sleep on the bed." Harry placed the blanket and the pillow upon the ground. "I'll sleep on the floor."

Malfoy opened his mouth to say "Thank you," but then closed it as his instinct for politeness was outweighed by his instinct to never show weakness.

* * *

A boy, lying upon a soft bed, his blond locks falling over his sleeping face. An owl, tapping on the window, its talons clutching a rolled-up newspaper. A clock, reading 4:59, its mechanisms ticking slowly towards the hour.

Suddenly, the clock ticked to five, and a large alarm blared throughout the room. The boy upon the bed woke up with a yell, searching for the source of the noise. The noise abruptly cut off, and Malfoy glanced up to see Harry standing above the alarm clock, his hand pressed upon a knob near the top of the device.

"What the hell was that?"

"It's called an alarm clock," Harry replied, moving to his window and opening the latch.

The owl fluttered in and dropped a newspaper on Malfoy's chest, sticking out a leg with a leather pouch attached to it. The black letters of _The Daily Prophet_ flashed across the parchment.

"You set it for a certain time and it goes off, making a loud noise to wake you." He put two bronze Knuts in the pouch and the bird flew away.

"Stupid mudblood trash," Malfoy muttered.

"Let's get something straight," Harry began, his anger rising once again. "As long as you're in my house, you're _not_ saying that word."

Malfoy didn't reply, but instead glanced at the paper that had landed upon his chest. He gasped as he saw the large picture displayed upon the front page.

"What is it?" Harry asked, glancing down at the newspaper as well.

"My house…. It's been destroyed. Look."

He handed the paper to Harry, who saw a picture of a collapsed building, the acres of land surrounding it dark and burnt. High above all the debris hung the figure of a skull in the sky, a green snake slithering ominously through its mouth.

_The Dark Mark_, Harry thought to himself. "I'm sorry, Malfoy."

"I don't want your pity, Potter," Malfoy snapped, his grey eyes alit with anger.

"Whatever," Harry muttered, rolling his eyes and grabbing the newspaper from Malfoy's hands.

He began skimming through it as Malfoy looked around Harry's room, seeing scattered papers and bits of parchment littering his floor. The object that caught his attention, however, was a glitter of gold in the sunlight. It turned out to be a locket lying upon a table covered with old birthday cards and a picture frame. The picture could only be of Harry's parents; Malfoy could see the male's untidy hair and the female's bright green eyes. They had been twirling around when the picture was taken, their smiles radiant and joyful. Why didn't _his_ parents ever look like that together?

"Ha!" Harry interjected, throwing Malfoy out of his thoughts. "They released him!"

"Who'd they release?" Malfoy turned to the wizard.

"Stan Shunpike," Harry replied, glancing up. "Any idiot could figure out he was just showing off."

Malfoy sneered. "Like they'd ever catch a _real_ Death Eater."

"You could help with that," Harry remarked pointedly.

"I'm not going to give up everything I believe in just so I can save my skin!"

"What _do_ you believe in, Malfoy?" the other teenager inquired, remembering the expression of horror upon Malfoy's face as Snape had turned his wand on Dumbledore and uttered the killing spell.

Malfoy stood there, his grey eyes troubled.

"Dudders!" came a call from downstairs. "It's time for breakfast!"

"Who's 'Dudders'?" Malfoy scoffed.

A large _bang_ sounded throughout the house as Dudley kicked his door open and ran down the stairs.

"_That_ would be my cousin," Harry replied with a grimace. "He's not too bad now because of the dementor attack, but he used to bully all the little kids in the neighborhood."

_He probably bullied his little cousin quite a bit as well,_ Malfoy mused silently.

"Let's go downstairs." Harry moved to the door, but then turned back to glance at Malfoy. "Can you walk?"

"I'm fine, Potter," Malfoy replied, pushing himself off Harry's bed. He stood, grimacing as pain shot through his body, and then walked slowly towards the door. "Move it," he snapped, and then pushed the door open, only hesitating slightly as he reached the steps.

Harry followed him out of the door and stood right behind Malfoy as the wizard made his way slowly down the stairs. The carpet had been removed from the doorway, and all the blood had disappeared from the wooden floor. His aunt must've stayed up the entire night cleaning it.

They entered the kitchen together and noticed that everyone had already begun to eat. As usual, they all ignored Harry, but he noticed that Aunt Petunia was slightly paler than usual and that his uncle sat gritting his teeth. Dudley, however, seemed just as sour as ever, eating his usual half of an unsweetened grapefruit with a rebellious look in his eyes.

"Aunt Petunia," Harry began hesitantly.

"Grapefruit's in the fridge," she replied tersely, her voice shaking slightly.

Harry sighed and went over to the fridge. Malfoy, however, was looking at Dudley with disgust as the boy began eating the grapefruit furiously, his beady eyes fixed on a square metal object with colors dancing across it.

"How long have you been eating grapefruit?" Malfoy asked with a sneer. Dudley looked up at him with fear in his eyes. "Yeah, you great tub of lard, I'm talking to you! You haven't been eating them long enough, have you?"

"How dare you!" roared Uncle Vernon, pushing himself from the table.

"You think I'm afraid of a filthy little mudblood like you?"

"C'mon, Malfoy, let's go," Harry said, grabbing Malfoy's arm and pulling him out of the kitchen, to halves of a grapefruit in his other hand.

"Come back here! I will not tolerate such blasted rudeness in my house. No, sir, I won't!"

Just then, Harry heard a screech, and an owl flew in through the open kitchen window, crashing onto the table and causing drinks to fly everywhere.

"Not another bloody owl!"

"Errol!" Harry exclaimed, rushing over to the bird and picking him up. "Let's go," Harry said to Malfoy, and they ascended the stairs with roared insults from Uncle Vernon still ringing in their ears.

They reached Harry's bedroom and Harry carefully took the letter from the owl's leg. He placed Errol in Hedwig's cage, who was out hunting, so the owl could rest and drink some of the water in the bowl. He opened one eye and gave a hoot of thanks before collapsing into sleep.

Harry opened his letter and began to read it. Malfoy stood behind him, reading over his shoulder.

_Harry,_

_Don't trust the ferret! Stay safe until tomorrow. Be up at five and don't turn your back on the rodent. And don't do anything reckless!_

_~Lupin_

Malfoy started laughing once he had finished the letter. Harry turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow.

"It was all for nothing, wasn't it?"

"What was for nothing?" Harry asked.

"Everything," Malfoy replied. "I'll be escaping one dangerous life full of mistrust for another."

"I trust you," Harry said simply. Malfoy opened his mouth to argue, but the younger wizard continued. "You may be an insufferable prat, but I know you're not a killer."

"How do you know that?"

"I was there," Harry replied with a haunted voice. "I saw him die."

Malfoy knew without a doubt that Harry was talking about Dumbledore. "That's impossible! There was no one else on the tower when he arrived!" His grey eyes seemed determined to deny whatever Harry said.

"You saw the two broomsticks—you even asked Dumbledore if there was someone else with him. Well, there was. I came to the tower with him, wearing the Invisibility Cloak. "Then you burst through the doors, and Dumbledore gave up any chance he had to protect himself and threw a freezing charm at me with wordless magic."

"You…were there?" Malfoy whispered in a choked voice.

"Yes," Harry answered, "I was there. You lowered your wand, Draco." Malfoy flinched slightly at the use of his first name. "You weren't going to kill anyone that night."

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AN: I hope you enjoyed the third chapter! I really wasn't kidding about this being the last one planned, though. It might be a while until I get another one up. If anyone has suggestions for the next part of the story, I'd be happy to hear them! Thanks, and don't forget to review!


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